


The Sportsman's Guide to Tricycling

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dom/sub Play, Felching, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:07:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Further adventures of a Radio 1 dj and his noble struggle to have just an average everyday threesome with two boybanders (if there's room in the bed for all three of them plus their issues (doubtful (but there's always the floor))).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sportsman's Guide to Tricycling

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to "Third Wheel" but can be seen as a stand-alone fic.

Harry picks him up from the airport in the Range Rover, although Nick knows he's got a new car.  
  
"What," Nick says, "I'm not good enough for the sexy new thing, the cherry red penis-mobile?"  
  
"It's being detailed," Harry says, with a ghost of his normal everything-all-out-there smile.  Just a flash of dimple, then it's gone.   
  
"You look like seven kinds of shit in a bag," he lies.  Harry looks tired and a bit sad at worst.   
  
"Things are a bit touchy at the moment."  He's always good at understatement – doesn't like to complain, not Harry, because he's a happy boy and he never feels he can really be upset about his life.  Nick's been on holiday, but never away from twitter, and although he's been texting Harry and rang him one night wanting to see how his boy was getting on with internet drama, Harry hasn't said a word about it until now.  
  
"You knew it was coming, yeah?" he says.  
  
"Yeah, but Louis – he's not like me, he sort of lets it fester," Harry says, eyes on the road.  "I can't really" – he waves his hand before he comes up with the word –"jolly him out of it."  
  
"Mmm," Nick says, sympathising.  Louis seems like a person who'd sulk for ages and make everyone around him uncomfortable.  Possibly Nick knows this because he's no stranger to a sulk.  "Given him lots of good food and sex?"  
  
"I've made him do all sorts of illegal things to me and it's not helping," Harry sighs.  "Actually I was hoping you could help."  
  
"Won't my mother be proud I'm living the dream," he says.  "Sex consultant to the stars."  
  
"But, it's just," Harry says, and bites his lip for a good half a minute before he continues.  Nick is used to his long pauses by now, but still sometimes just wants to shake him until he hurries up, like a vending machine that won't spit out your drink fast enough.  
  
"I'm good at managing people like Louis?" he says.  He tries not to finish Harry's sentences because _how_ annoying, but Harry looks relieved when he does it.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," he says gratefully.  "I just...don't seem to be able to get through."  
  
"Your problem is you just want to nurture him and be sweet, because you're a fucking ball of sunshine," Nick says.  It's not true all the time; Harry can throw a tantrum like an absolute champion, but once he's had a good cry or talk or cuddle, it's done.  He doesn't understand people who chew over things for days and can't be comforted by conventional methods.  "Louis needs to have someone give him a bit of a smack and tell him to shut up and be a big boy."  
  
Harry's eyebrows knit together.  "I...am not really good at that."  
  
"Course you're not," Nick says, "so you should be glad I'm here to do it for you."  
  
*  
  
It's usually Zayn who gets Louis out of these moods, apparently.  Harry explains this to Nick on the rest of the drive.  Zayn is good at cutting through what Harry calls his funks and Nick calls his self-involved sniveling.  But Zayn's on holiday too at the moment, and anyway Zayn's not generally up for the same kind of thing Nick is – although, Harry admits blithely, once in a great while Louis likes to direct him and Zayn to wank each other whilst Louis watches.  
  
"Yours is a love the poets dream of," Nick says.  
  
"It really is though," Harry replies with a private little smile, and Nick remembers the first time the three of them were all naked together.  They were in Harry's bed, which is big enough to fit in almost all the people Harry's rumoured to have slept with.  Nick was on his side and Louis on his back with Harry tucked against him, running his fingers through Harry's hair whilst Harry nuzzled into his chest and struggled to keep his eyes open.  
  
"Which one of you likes to be fucked best then?" Nick had asked, pointing first at Harry, then at Louis.  
  
"He does," Harry said, just as Louis said, "I do."  Harry drummed his fingers on Louis's stomach and added, "He really, _really_ likes it."  
  
"Not as much as you like – " Louis began, and Harry laughed and tried to cover his mouth.  "He likes being tied up.  He came in his pants the last time we did it."  
  
"Ugh," Harry had said, blushing and smiling, and hid his face in Louis's arm.   
  
"Oh, don't pretend you don't like it when he embarrasses you, you curly pervert," Nick said.   
  
Louis hooted and looked absolutely delighted, kissing Harry on top of the head.  "He's got you pegged, babe."  
  
"Hey, you're not exempt, cheeky," Nick said, pinching Louis on the belly.  "I think you want someone to put you in your place."  
  
Louis had looked confused and intrigued, and a bit – Nick thought perhaps he'd been imagining it, but now he's almost sure it was there – a bit frightened in a questioning sort of way.  Nick wondered if Harry had ever tried it out, just pressed Louis down onto the bed or the floor and fucked him senseless, but he's seen the look of total serenity on Harry's face whenever Louis puts him on his knees and instructs him to suck.  Harry submits so wholeheartedly there's no room in him for anything else.  
  
"That's Harry, not me," Louis said.  "He's the one who likes to be told what to do."  
  
Harry had snuggled closer to Louis with an agreeable little hum, and Louis had put both arms around him and laughed as Nick teased Harry because animals in the rain forest who have never met a human being know Harry Styles likes to be told what to do.  Aliens in other _solar systems_ have noticed Harry Styles likes to be told what to do.  And Harry groaned and made faces trying not to smile and told them both to shut up, and Nick hasn't brought up Louis's part in it again, though they've all three had sex several times since then.  
  
"Don't drop me off at mine, yeah?" he tells Harry.  "We'll go to your place and see what we can do about Louis."  
  
"Oh, good, good," Harry says.  "He really needs it."  
  
It's a strange, fine line he rides with the two of them.  Problem one is that they're so ridiculously jealous.  They prefer to do things to him together rather than the other way round.  If he touches Harry he has to be careful to do it only when Louis says so or Louis turns squawky and sullen, and if he touches Louis too much Harry looks absolutely murderous.  "Jesus, look at you, I'm afraid to sleep with my neck uncovered," he said once, and Harry scowled harder and pushed his arm away from Louis, and Nick rolled his eyes because apparently he'd forgot he was dealing with teenagers.  
  
Problem two is that he and Louis still don't particularly like each other.  Louis still thinks Nick is on a mission to steal the small sliver of Harry's soul that doesn't belong to him.  Nick could tell him he doesn't want anybody falling in love with him, let alone Harry for god's sake, but he won't.  He likes to see Louis squirm.  And he knows what Louis doesn't yet: that in seven or eight years Louis will be exactly like him, and that seven or eight years ago he was exactly like Louis, minus the millions of pounds and devoted fans.  Eventually Louis will grow out of being a pompous little twat with impulse-control problems and into being an entirely different kind of twat, but in the meantime Nick has no patience with him.  When Louis gives him a particular smug look he wants to say something stupid like _When I was your age I'd shagged an entire Australian rugby team including the coach_ or _If you don't start working out your stomach will be the size of your arse and believe me you're not getting any younger_ but he knows what's underneath Louis's smugness, and that keeps him from getting too terrible.  
  
When they reach the Styles-Tomlinson abode (Nick calls them the Tomlinstyleses just to see how much Louis can scrunch his nose up like an offended rabbit), Louis comes out of his room and, seeing Nick, leans against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest, putting on a nonchalant air.  It's quite funny to watch.  "Oh," he says flatly, "it's you."  
  
"Shut it," Nick says.  "And get your clothes off."  
  
They both stare at him, nonplused.  Harry looks back and forth between them with his eyes wide as if he's going to have to pick a side and is nervously edging toward Louis.  
  
"You heard me," he says over his shoulder to Louis, walking into Harry's room.  "Harry and me have something planned for you.  If you can't be bothered we'll just do it without you then."  
  
"But–" Harry says, and Nick drags him into the room with a swat on the bottom.  
  
Louis glares at him from under his fringe for long enough that Nick thinks he simply won't do it.  But just as Nick is about to shrug and close the door of Harry's room, Louis pushes himself upright and joins them, acting as if it was his idea all along.  His chin is up and he's got a look in his eye, defiant but a little uncertain, and Nick can see his cock is already stiff in his sweatpants.   
  
Harry's naked practically before Nick shuts the door, and he looks to Nick for guidance.  "Help me get his clothes off," Nick tells him, and together they strip Louis of his t-shirt and sweats and underwear.   
  
"What am I supposed to do exactly?" Louis says.  He's striving for casual and misses it, shaky-voiced and blushing.  But he wouldn't be Louis Tomlinson if he didn't try to take charge of the situation; he reaches for Harry, who draws him close and kisses him.  Nick rather likes to watch the two of them kiss because they almost seem as if they get sustenance from it, like strange little birds feeding each other.  But Nick is running this show, and he didn't say it was time for kissing.  
  
"Oi, you," he says, tapping Louis on the shoulder.  He thinks Harry might underestimate the effect he has on Louis's moods, because Louis looks a lot more peaceful than he did five minutes ago.  "Your job here is not to speak and not to take charge."  
  
"Not to speak at all?" Louis asks with a skeptical eyebrow.   
  
"Not at all," Nick says firmly.  He can see the idea is difficult for Louis to even process – he talks a lot during sex, encouraging Harry, telling Nick what to do to Harry, how to finger him, how fast Harry should ride Nick – but he mulls it over and nods with a shrug as if he's not making any promises but he'll try.  There's a fine shiver running through him though, and when Nick says, "Harry, you're going to fuck him until he can't sit down properly tomorrow," Louis's breath hitches and his fingers curl into tight fists.  
  
Whilst he was formulating his plan in the car, he'd thought it best to have them all on the bed, but when he undresses and Louis's eyes dart down to his cock, lips parting just a bit, he recalibrates and positions Harry on the floor, with Louis sat astride him facing Nick, who sits on the edge of the bed ("Reverse Cowgirl," he tells Louis slyly, and has to duck out of the way of his fist).  Harry, whose hands look enormous with his long fingers wrapped around Louis's hips or stroking up and down his thighs, doesn't move until Nick finally says, "Go on, Harry, fast as you like."  Harry's pace is hard and steady, and Louis, looking up at Nick, closes his eyes and gasps.  
  
" _Faster_ ," he breathes.   
  
Nick puts his hand up to Louis's mouth.  "Couldn't make it twenty seconds," he says.  "No bossing and _no talking_ , or I'll have to gag you."  
  
Louis scowls petulantly and bites Nick's thumb before he moves it away, but the way his legs are spread over Harry's lap it's easy to see his cock jerking hard.  His eyes flicker down to Nick's cock again and the two of them have a silent conversation.  Nick raises an eyebrow and touches himself, asking wordlessly if Louis would, in fact, like to be gagged, and Louis, glaring daggers at him, licks his lips and nods almost imperceptibly.  His mouth is hot and he sucks like Nick expects him to, teasing like a brat, and Nick has to struggle to stay a step ahead of him.  
  
"Faster, Harry," he says, hoping his voice won't crack.  Harry holds Louis's hips in place and obeys, hips slapping against Louis's arse, and Louis, unbalanced and suddenly getting the fast, hard fuck he wants, falters around Nick's cock, eyes hazy with pleasure.  Nick chucks him under the chin and says, "Come on now.  Anyone can do better than _that_."  
  
Louis sucks hard, furious, and Nick wonders if he should be careful because he thinks Louis might not stop at just biting fingers.  He strokes Louis's soft, messy hair, half condescending and half apologetic.  Harry watches and Nick almost pulls away because he doesn't need one of Harry's jealous fits right now, but Harry only grins at him and kisses Louis's shoulders slowly and tenderly in counterpoint to the merciless drive of his cock.  
  
It doesn't take long before Harry's rhythm falls apart and his breath turns into rapid little whimpers, hiding his face against Louis's back.  "I'm gonna come," he says unsteadily, bracing himself with a hand on Nick's knee.  
  
"If you must," Nick says, and has to keep a hand on Louis's face so he won't break away.  He knows how Louis likes to watch Harry, and to be fair, it is quite a lovely sight because Harry just never holds back.  Nick and Harry each make fun of the silly faces the other makes in the throes of orgasm, but in the moment it's not silly at all – Harry lets it take him over completely and muffles his shouting into Louis's shoulder, arm tight around Louis's middle.  When he's come down from it a bit and is just panting, fringe clinging damply to his forehead, Nick says, "Go on then, clean him up."  
  
Harry groans and pulls out of Louis with heavy, slow movements, but once he gets down and presses his tongue inside Louis he's eager about it, excited the way he gets when he's allowed to do something really naughty.  At the touch of Harry's mouth Louis falters again and this time he can't quite catch up.  He struggles to keep sucking but has to stop every few seconds, moaning, and the uneven suction is what finally gets Nick off.  He comes so hard it gives him goosebumps and he thinks he accidentally kicks Harry in the leg.  Louis watches him through it all, eyes half-lidded.  He's got come on his lips and chin when he pulls away, but when he wipes it off, he laps at his fingers.  It strikes Nick that Louis has gone unusually pliant and he thinks that must be the way to get him to really go down, after all, making him feel so good he can't help it.   
  
"Can I – again?" Harry asks, and Nick realises he's hard again already.  He's not quite over being envious of Harry's eighteen-year-old stamina, but it is fun to get him off again and again until he ends the evening sex-stupid and adorably clingy.  Without Louis there he might not have the energy to keep up with it though – he's definitely of the opinion that twice is enough so stop being greedy Harold, thank you.  
  
He nods, and waits until Harry's slicked himself up and pressed slowly inside Louis again before he slips down to the floor to join them and teases Louis's cock, untouched so far.  Whatever Harry's doing this time around, the angle or the speed, it seems to feel a lot better than the first time.  Louis, shuddering and crying out hoarsely, leans back against Harry, reaching behind to hold onto him.  "Here, you, help me touch him," Nick says, grasping one of Harry's hands so they're both giving Louis a slow handjob.  Louis tries to get more, rocking down onto Harry and back up again into their fingers, but Nick and Harry both hold him still and it makes him go even wilder.  Harry murmurs into his ear to calm him.  
  
They keep him there, on the edge, for quite a while – Nick has no idea how long – going fast until he's almost there, then barely brushing over him with their fingertips.  His cock is huge and thick and wet and he shivers and gasps at the slightest touch by the time Nick decides it's time to let him come.  He slips his fingers into Harry's and together they stroke him slow and steady until he's right at the edge and then slides over, his whole body going taut, muscles standing out in his belly and his thighs and arms as he comes in long, hard spurts onto their fingers.  He comes almost silently, curling in on himself with the force of it, hardly able to breathe.  When he sucks a breath in again it comes out in sobs, and he collapses back against Harry with his eyes closed.  Harry's grip on Louis's waist suddenly tightens and Nick realises he's coming for a second time, quieter and more intense than the first.  He tells Louis he loves him in a choked whisper as he does it – one of those rare moments during which Nick genuinely feels like an outsider, but it's not a lonely feeling.  He doesn't want what they have, doesn't think even if he ever found it he would be comfortable with it, but it's beautiful to see in other, more love-inclined human beings.  
  
Harry helps Louis stand and the three of them get into the bed, Louis sprawled on top of Harry and Nick beside them.  It's strange because Louis usually chatters after sex, wanting to know how it felt, if they noticed Harry actually hit the opposite wall when he came, if their orgasms were better or less good than last time, but right now he curls into Harry and says nothing.  
  
"Are you all right?" Harry asks in a low voice, pressing his cheek to the top of Louis's head and squeezing him close.  
  
"I don't know," Louis says, and he sounds honestly bewildered, really lost.  Nick knows how that feels, and can't help but run his fingers down Louis's arm.  
  
"Look at me," Nick says, and Louis looks.  "You're absolutely fine."  
  
Louis's breath goes a bit funny and he nods.  "Yeah," he says softly.  "I'm okay."  
  
Nick tugs Louis off Harry, toward him, and together he and Harry hold him and let him come down as slowly as he needs to.  Over his head, they have a little silent conversation – Harry's deliberate eye-widening says _What the fuck did we do to him?_ and Nick makes a face that's meant to say _Don't worry about it, just shut up –_ but Harry falls asleep in minutes like he always does, and then it's just Nick and Louis still awake and breathing beside each other.  
  
"Thanks," Louis says after a while.  "For that."  
  
"You're welcome," he replies.  "You've really got to be careful not to take things out on Harry though."  
  
"I'd never," Louis says, too loudly, squirming until he's turned around and facing Nick.  Harry stirs and mumbles in his sleep.   
  
"You don't think you do," Nick says, and pokes him in the stomach.  "Don't be a twat and let it get this bad again, yeah?  He's been driving himself crazy trying to make you feel better."  
  
"He always makes me feel better," Louis murmurs, and chews thoughtully on his lip for a moment.  "I don't like you very much, you know?"  
  
"I actually find you unbearable even in small doses," Nick says fondly.  "You've got shit taste in music and your quiff is fucking ridiculous."  
  
"Hmm."  Louis smiles and cuddles a bit closer to him, and then he's asleep, and Nick throws an arm around them both and sleeps as well, more comfortable in this strange inside-and-outside trio than he's been in many a more traditional relationship.


End file.
